


Laughter

by momolady



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Comfort, F/M, Love, fight
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-09
Updated: 2013-09-09
Packaged: 2017-12-26 03:20:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/960976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/momolady/pseuds/momolady
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You make the same mistake because it’s not a mistake, you do it on purpose." He shrugged. "It’s safe. " He rubbed her back. "It’s easy to date and fuck and feel infatuated and horny for a few weeks or even a month, sometimes two when you’re feeling like pretending you’re in love. Holidays, etc. And the breakups aren’t hard. You cry a little and play the wounded bird, and you get rescued every time." He pet her hair and laughed to himself. "I know, because I do it, sans being rescued. "</p>
            </blockquote>





	Laughter

**Author's Note:**

> Written by: amaresempra.tumblr.com & momolady.tumblr.com

Sansa knew she was on the downswing of this relationship. He was making excuses, breaking dates. It was only a matter of time to dump or be dumped. She decided not to waste a good outfit and good makeup, going to the bar down the street to get a drink. She was still all dolled up for her date, only having gotten the call a few minutes before she was going to leave to meet him. She grumbled under her breath, ordering whiskey.

She sighed, looking at the drink, someone else had taught her to like whiskey. And suddenly she was missing him.

His laugh was husky, and cut through the din of the crowd. He was there with a cute blonde across his lap. He seemed to prefer blondes, never with another redhead but her. He was her friend, and more than one occasion had ended with them drunkenly clamoring on top of one another, one or the other sneaking out before the other woke

He bit the blonde’s neck, Sansa knew that pleasure. How his teeth worked.

She smiled, seeing him. Had he been alone she might of clung to him like the blonde girl did, letting him whisk her away and fuck her delirious. She picked up her drink, finishing it, ordering another. She rubbed her temple, a little confused as to why she was suddenly so pissed, wanting to rip the blonde’s obviously bleached roots out.

He slapped the blonde’s ass, getting her off of his lap. Sandor had a mans man appeal, not a player, but word enough got around about his beastly tendencies in bed. Lots of ladies liked to feel like Beauty for a night. He ordered more drinks, her red hair catching his eye. 

He smirked, sidling by her, “It’s bad luck to drink alone”

She looked up at him, a warm smile spreading across her face. “What makes you think I’m alone?” She waved her hand down her body, showing her nice new dress, fuck me heels. “My fella could be off in the loo.” She chuckled, running her finger around the rim of her glass.

She watched him expectantly.

"Fuck pissing, he’d be too hard if he were here with you," he grinned, wolfish. His five ‘o clock shadow creeping down his neck. "I’m sure you won’t be alone for long. Soon as the crowd here spots you you’ll have to beat them off, literally and metaphorically." He was slightly tipsy, it seemed, by his crude compliments.

She shrugged it off, laughing. “I’m going home after this drink. I don’t feel much like beating anybody off.” She scoffed, rolling her eyes and taking a sip. She then slid her hand up his thigh, palming his crotch. “You have fun though.” She set her glass down and stood up. “I’ll call you sometime.” She kissed his cheek chastely then picked up her purse.

 

"I will" he smiled, hand slithering between her thighs for a brief moment, strong hands palming the fleshy expanse there. He kissed her temple, heading back to his table to his date

She left a few crumpled bills on the counter finishing off the whiskey in the glass, spitting out ice. She left, bag slung over her shoulder. She grunted frustrated, they both knew each other too well. He at least had someone to work that out on, she’d have to go home and pull her vibrator out of the drawer if she wanted to do that. She got home, undressing and putting on an oversized t-shirt and an awful movie.

The next day, Saturday, she went about his business, going out shopping then returning home. She had forgotten her phone, and went searching for it. Finding it and discovering she had a message left.

"Oh hey, Sansa…uhm, hate to do this but…I’ve met someone else. I didn’t wanna string you along. Sorry."

Beep.

Sansa turned, scowling. “Well fuck.” She cursed, tossing her things aside and huffing, plopping down on her sofa.

A message lit up her phone, vibrating it softly

A picture, nothing but a lower torso, hair covered, and the beginning of thick base of cock

"You said you’d call me" the tagline

She sniffled, laughing slightly, trying to clear up her throat. She dialed him back, waiting on him to answer her.

He groaned against the receiver “Well I guess that’s how I have to get your attention.” He chuckled. “Really, am I just a fuck to you?” Shifting noise of sheets in the background.

She sniffled, laughing to covering it up. “Sorry I didn’t call. I‘d gone out and forgot my phone.” She rubbed her eyes. “I just got some rather, well…pissy news to say the least.” She shifted on the sofa, pulling a throw over her legs.

"Mnh, that’s not good," he yawned "want to talk about it?" he murmured, low smoky voice almost comforting as opposed to its gruff seductive default

She sighed. “Guy I was seeing,” she muttered, scoffing to herself. “He leaves me a message saying he’s met someone else.” She rubbed her eyes, it stung to admit that. “I guess I just want my mind somewhere else instead of going into self loathing. So talking would be nice.”

"Want me to come over?" He asked, voice almost timid

Sansa sat up on the sofa, throw falling off. “What about that blonde you were with last night?” She asked, undoing her hair from the braid.

"What about her ?"

She swallowed. “Bring take out from our favorite place.” She said, voice soft. “I have to clean up a bit before you get here. Ok?”

"Fuck cleaning just lay in one spot and I’ll be there soon,” He grunted. "I don’t care how your house looks, maids aren’t just for fucking you know? Some actually clean."

She laughed. “I take pride in my home, ass.” She scoffed. “Asses are also for kicking, not just fucking, you know that too right?” She laughed.

“Aye, I know. I came to kick ass and chew bubblegum and I’m…I have a moderate amount of gum so we’re good on the violent front”

She chuckled. “Just pick up the food. I’ll see you here in a few.”

"I mean it don’t you move. You better be sinking into the couch. I’ll know if you cleaned, woman" he chuckled, hanging up.

He was over in less than half an hour, reek of Chinese food and tacos sickly comforting. “Ching Taco was still open,” he grumbled, sliding the brown sacks onto her bar.

"I got some muu guu gaillo, egg drop mole and spring roll tacos and that hot sauce shit they have that turns your tongue to leather."

She had picked up her bedroom and cleaned the bathroom, which it needed anyways. She walked up to him, wearing an oversized t-shirt and shorts. “Ah good, my favorite.”

He shrugged ” i guess so you can’t taste how bad the food actually i-“

She went up to him, hugging him around the waist. “Thanks for coming over.” She took some paper plates from the cabinet. “You didn’t have to.”

"I know it" he smirked, "but sometimes I get a blowjob and it makes your horrible personality completely tolerable for the whole eight seconds" He scooped her into a hug, nuzzling her temple.

She punched him in the stomach. “Awful!” She then squeezed him tight and pulled away, handing him a plate. “I just feel like sometimes…I take advantage of you so. Thanks…for it all.”

He filled his plate, eating heartily, handing her wine coolers he picked up.

She ate, taking big bites. The food a major comfort. She gulped down a cooler, then burped loudly into her fist. “Ugh gross, that taste awful.” She grimaced.

He snickered. “You’re just eating it wrong.” He pulled her into his lap, setting their plates aside. “Tell me about it, then. I promise you my hindsight is 20/20.”

"What?" She scoffed. "About the douchebag who won’t tell me face to face he isn’t interested?" She rested her head on his shoulder. "It isn’t that big of a deal. It wasn’t serious anyways."

"Serious enough " he shifted under her, turning on her tv.

"I’m just done." She sighed. "I think it’s time I started to think seriously. Try and just stop myself. I always make the same mistake."

"You make the same mistake because it’s not a mistake, you do it on purpose." He shrugged. "It’s safe. " He rubbed her back. "It’s easy to date and fuck and feel infatuated and horny for a few weeks or even a month, sometimes two when you’re feeling like pretending you’re in love. Holidays, etc. And the breakups aren’t hard. You cry a little and play the wounded bird, and you get rescued every time." He pet her hair and laughed to himself. "I know, because I do it, sans being rescued. "

She looked up at him. “What about me?” She asked. “Do I not rescue you?” She nuzzled against his neck, relaxing against him. It felt right, sitting here in his arms. It always had. Maybe always would.

He chuckled. “Far from it, you’re more of a catalyst than a solution.”

She furrowed her brow, pulling back and meeting his eyes. “Catalyst?” She asked.

"Mhm," he nodded, not explaining further.

"Are you saying I’m the reason you do it?" She asked. "Sandor…" she hesitated, shaking her head. "Never mind."

"So I mean, I’m here if you want to know what not to do in relationships but I’m shit for advice on the other parts. "

He pet her sides, laying out, holding her in place of conversation.

She curled up against him, not wanting to think, just wanting to be held and comforted. “You’re more boyfriend to me than anyone I’ve ever dated.” She sighed.

"Well theres something you should know then, I’ve apparently been cheating on you for…decades.” His laugh rumbled, kissing the top of her head.

He closed his eyes, sleeping with his arms around her.

She woke in the morning, grumbling and pulling up from his chest. She rubbed her eyes looking down on him. She wondered why they had never been serious, why they’d never done the whole couples thing. She brushed the hair from his eyes, bending down and kissing him warmly on the lips. She then pulled up, thinking about how a cup of coffee sounding amazing.

She stretched her arms out, back popping.

"Jesus fuck woman get off me," he grumbled, his morning wood painfully pinched under her hip and tailbone.

He pinched her side softly, rolling over, knocking her off.

She plopped to the floor, legs in the air. “Fine then,” she huffed, adusting herself and sitting. “You can make your own coffee,” she pouted, standing up, legs bare, having kicked off her shorts in the night along with her panties. She stretched, rear peeking out from beneath her shirt. She went into the kitchen, fixing the coffee pot and setting it to stun.

He grumbled, leg looped over the couches back, something rude about no blowjob, but at least she had coffee

She strut back over. “Be a few minutes for coffee.” She smirked down at him. “What shall we do till then?” Brow perking up suggestively.

"Sleeping," he murmured. He wasn’t a morning person

Sansa shrugged. “Alright then, I offered.” She squeezed down on his morningwood and released. “Your choice.” 

"You didn’t offer shit." He growled. "Thats why you get dumped , you gotta let a man know what you want. Don’t you realize how much blood is required to maintain an erection?"

She turned, scoffing. “What? I wasn’t suggestive enough for you?” She came back over to him, pulling off her t-shirt and she straddled him, sitting nude on top of him.

"This better?" She laughed.

"Nope, still unsure." He ground against her lightly, thumbs rubbing up her soft stomach, kneading her chest. "Maybe you want a medical exam what do i know "

She laughed. “What would you like I do with your cock this morning?” She snapped her teeth before his face. “That clear enough now, Mr. Literal?”

"I’d like if you’d get off it and give me some coffee," he smirked, pinching her nipple roughly.

She huffed, smooshing her hand against his face and pulling away. She slipped her shirt back on and went into the kitchen. She poured two cups of coffee, setting one on the counter. “Here’s your brew, milord.”

"Thank you wench but next time more piss." He downed it, kevlar tongue immune to black coffee.

"Gods I hate mornings" he spat, rolling back onto the couch

She sat in the kitchen, going over her emails and updates. She’d wait on him to get over his morning.

"I don’t know how you do it," he muttered, going back to sleep till almost noon,

Sandor got up, shuffling to her shower grumpily, but not as vicious as first thing.

She knocked on the door opening it. “Need anything?” She asked, hair tied back in a sloppy bun, reading glasses on her face. She had put on a robe due to the chill.

"Mngh," he moaned softly, her soap smelling different on him , his thick figure outlined behind the dappled glass

"I’ve put you on some more coffee." She said, lingering at the door. "Just bark at me if you need anything."

She pinched her legs, only having just masturbated.

"Mn" he groaned again, coming out soon enough, fresh and cleanly shaved. "Sansa sansa sans sans." He rubbed his smooth cheek to hers. "Feel my face butt."

She giggled, pushing against his chest. “Werido!” She licked up his cheek.

He chuckled. “Bet that tastes like lotion.” He rubbed her hips. “I have to be up early tomorrow. I shouldn’t stay too late.”

"It’s barely noon, you have time to stick around and laze about my place." She pinched her thighs, hoping he couldn’t smell her. "Hungry?" She asked, stepping out of the bathroom.

"Gods no , no more food" he grumbled "Ching Taco, you don’t buy it you just rent it .”

Sansa rubbed his stomach. “Aww wee lamb.” She stepped away again, short robe showing off her legs. “Just relax, I’ll bring you your coffee.” She went to the kitchen, pouring a cup for him. She had been waiting for him to wake up, thinking on it all morning. What harm would it do to just ask?

Sandor relaxed against her couch, dark circles under his eyes.

She went to him, placing the warm cup in his hands. “Sweet dreams?”

He took the coffee, grumbling into it. “I didn’t dream, at least cant remember.” He smirked, looking her over. “Your couch is pretty nice though” 

She tucked her legs up under her, resting her cheek on his shoulder. “I sleep on it sometimes.” She closed her eyes. “I can’t too many nights in a row or it kills my back.”

"I can imagine" He closed his eyes, head against hers

"Could you ever see yourself…" she hesitated. "I mean, you and I as…as a couple?" She asked hesitantly, nervously.

He shrugged “How you are now and how I am now?” He shook his head. “When you’ve not spent the night crying on me from a very recent split, sure.” He sighed. “But you don’t want that. And I don’t want to be another one of your heart breaks.”

"Why not?" She asked, rubbing her hand up his arm. "I mean…with you, I don’t see it that way." She shook her head. "Stupid question anyways."

He frowned at her, looking into her eyes, searching. “I don’t want to talk about this while you’ve just broken up.”

"I’m okay with being a rebound fuck but keep feelings out of it," he bristled. “and it’s not a stupid question..” He shook his head. "Besides what makes you think you shouldn’t be scared of me as well?" He asked, eyes boring into hers.

Sansa bit her lips. “Sandor…you’ve been…I don’t know what you’ve been to me all these years, but I’ve needed it, wanted it.” She looked away. “And after all that time…there’s always feelings.” She stood up. “Excuse me for a moment.” She said, going to the bathroom.

"What makes you think I wouldn’t just fuck you and leave you after a few weeks?" He asked, following her, pressing her to the wall of her hall.

"Because you haven’t yet!" She snapped back. "Now, lets just drop it. Forget I asked." She grumbled, looking down.

"No," he barked, pulling her face up to his "I won’t forget it, Sansa Stark, and if you dare play me like one of your boys I will rip your heart from you.” He kissed her, hard and angry, and left.

She wasn’t mad at him, mad at herself more than anything. She had fucked up their nice time. She had been a coward and she was now paying for it. He hard tore her lip with his hard kiss, a little blood in her mouth.

He didn’t avoid her, per se, but for a month he was hard to track down. He wasn’t at the bars, or anywhere else but home.

One evening, she sat outside his building, holding an umbrella over her as it rained. He didn’t answer his buzzer, but surely he’d come home soon. She’d not tried much to reach him, but she was missing him now.

He pulled up around midnight, still in work clothes, and damp from the downpour He looked at her, hair slicked to his face.

She looked up, trying to smile but couldn’t. She bit her lip, standing up and looking down at her feet. “I’m sorry.” She muttered. “I’m a coward.” She stood up, holding her umbrella as if trying to hide herself. “I just…I just wanted to apologize.” She walked down the steps. “I’ll go now.”

"Braver than me" he spat, pushing her up the stairs. "Get in, daft woman." He unlocked the door, pushing her in and onto the elevator.

She stood, putting a space between them. She wanted to be curled up against him again, warm and snug on her couch. She remained quiet, words not coming easily now.

He dripped, looking miserable, nose red. “I don’t have much to eat but if you want cereal and soy milk I’m your man” He opened his penthouse, stripping down in the entryway, his flesh very pale and pebbled with gooseflesh.

Around the table a few tissues piled up, his dishes were undone.

"Not hungry." She answered swallowing. Her hair and clothes were damp, and she shivered slightly.

He grabbed lysol from the table by the door, dragging it through the house with him, to the back bedroom.

"Get naked and come here" he barked, but not sexual.

She stripped along the way, letting her clothes fall where they lay, she then went into his room, it had been a long time since she had last been in his place. She stood, arms wrapped around her, shivering slightly less.

He hit her with a hot steamy sheet, straight from the dryer.

She wrapped it around herself, hiding away inside. “Thank you.”

He was curled in a ball on his massive bed, shivering under the thick hot blanket. “Mnh,” he sighed.

She sat on the edge of the bed. “I’ve missed you.” She mumbled, peeking out from the sheet. “It’s hurt worse than anything.”

He slithered onto her lap, shivering, clinging to her thighs. “I think I’ve brought this on myself,” he grumbled, throat crackly.

She pushed the hair from his forehead. “Are you sick?” She asked softly, concerned tone rising.

"I’ve been sick," he growled. "For half a month."

He sniffled “I wanted to come see you again but I’ve been stuck inside and at work.”

Sansa cupped her hand over his forehead. “Why didn’t you call me?” She scolded worriedly. “I would’ve come.”

He looked at her between his bangs, judgmental puppy eyes meeting hers. “I didn’t want you to coddle me. I was waiting for you to have a new boyfriend.” He sighed, sneezing. “But bugger that I just want you, Sansa.” He wiped his eyes and nose on her lap “I don’t want you to be with anyone but me, even though I don’t deserve you.”

She knelt down, kissing his cheek. “I love you Sandor.” She whispered. “I know I do now.” She pet his hair. “I’ve always loved you.”

He grumbled something about fucked up way of showing it, biting her thigh gently.

"I think we’ve been too scared to admit it." She sniffled. "And I hate myself for dancing around it." She kissed the top of his head, cradling him in her arms.

"Well don’t start our relationship by hating yourself." He sniffled loudly, pulling her under his blanket, clinging around her possessively.

"I’m gonna get so much snot in your hair," his laugh hoarse. "Maybe we should start our love life tomorrow."

She clung around him. “You’re sick. You need sleep.” She grumbled into his chest. “Just hold me, I don’t care what gets in my hair.”

He nodded, holding her close, making sure she was comfortable. “I love you Sansa” he rasped, half asleep. “I always will, even if you do use me.” He weakly pinched her nipple. “Don’t use me.”

Sansa laughed, nuzzling to his cheek. “I don’t want to.” She pet the back of his neck. “Get some sleep, fool.” She muttered into his hair. “Go to sleep knowing I love you.” A soft sigh of a laugh escaping her as she fell to sleep.


End file.
